


Pandemonium & Pie

by Oriana1990



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shop Owner Dean Winchester, Demisexual Castiel (Supernatural), Gratuitous use of houseplants, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Past Balthazar/Castiel (mention), Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Quarantine & Chill (Supernatural), Sexting, two-person love triangle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:49:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24830101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oriana1990/pseuds/Oriana1990
Summary: Castiel was in a new city where nobody knew him and he could get a fresh start.Nothing could stop him from getting his life together now.Except maybe a global pandemic.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 98
Kudos: 194
Collections: ProfoundBond Exchange: Quarantine & Chill





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxymoley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxymoley/gifts).



> Whew, this was an adventure!
> 
> Written for Bobby Foxy/[Foxymoley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxymoley/profile) as part of the PB Gift Exchange. I hope you like it, Foxy!
> 
> Loosely inspired by a [couple](https://yourspecialeyes.tumblr.com/post/170653357168/casthewise-dean-owning-a-little-bakery-and) of [prompts](https://yourspecialeyes.tumblr.com/post/170723633707/yourcodenameis-michael-character-development) Foxy posted on the [PB Discord Server](https://https//discord.gg/profoundbond) (come and join us, we're grrrreat)
> 
> Yuge thanks to [Nickelkeep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickelkeep) for extensive cheerleading and beta services, and also for persuading me to sign up in the first place.
> 
> Now featuring art by the wonderful [Banshee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banshee1013/pseuds/Banshee1013) on chapter 2!

It was already a weird time to be starting a new job. Castiel knew that. Taking on a teaching position halfway through the academic year? _Weird_. Dropping everything and moving to the other side of the country had never been in the Official Long-Term Plan, but after his predecessor had been ‘strongly advised’ to take an immediate sabbatical following some questionable life choices, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity. Granted, moving from Chicago when the weather was grey, damp, and barely out of the 30s, to San Diego where he would actually have to think about investing in an AC unit and some climate-appropriate workwear, was a pretty extreme change. But he had no ties left in Chicago anymore, and given his situation, nobody was going to offer him tenure any time soon. So, he had jumped.

Gabriel had driven up to help him move at the start of spring break for the low, low fee of dinner being on Castiel for the rest of time (which was actually more of a threat now that they’d be living in the same state). A couple of disgustingly long days of driving later, they’d finally arrived at his new condo, sweaty and exhausted. He’d picked the neighborhood for its convenience for the I-5 and short drive from campus, but more importantly the fact that it was quiet, which had made Gabriel roll his eyes and call him grandpa for days. Castiel hadn’t appreciated that ‘quiet’ was real estate agent code for ‘nosy and suspicious’ until he noticed the number of twitching curtains and bare-faced staring on the short box-transferring journey between the cars and his front door. No matter – this was nothing that time, politeness, and baked goods couldn’t resolve.

This would be his opportunity to put down some roots, to really get involved in the community, and to be the perfect neighbor. Nobody here would have any preconceptions about him, and he could create the life he wanted. Castiel smiled to himself at the thought.

“What’s the sappy expression for?”

Castiel dumped the box of shoes in his new bedroom, where Gabriel was lounging on his bed eating a pack of Twizzlers. 

“Are you going to help me unpack, or are you just going to stuff yourself with sugar?”

“Obviously I’m going to choose door number two, Monty. Don’t avoid the question. You’re emoting like a real boy. Why?”

Castiel shrugged. “I’m just looking forward to starting over.”

Gabriel’s expression softened. “Fair enough, bro.” He scrunched up the now-empty wrapper and tossed it at Castiel, where it hit his shoulder before dropping to the floor. “Unfortunately, I’ve officially met my quota for familial altruism for the quarter, so I’m gonna bounce.” 

“Thank you, Gabriel. I mean it.”

His brother pulled a face. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t think I won’t collect on those dinners.”

Castiel snorted and made for the stairs with another box. “ _Goodbye_ , Gabe.”

There was something deeply satisfying about having all your books in order having moved to a new place. More than any other part of the unpacking process, this was really what made it start to feel like home. Castiel stood back from the wide shelves to admire his handiwork. It had felt like an unnecessary luxury, buying somewhere with (what was generously referred to as) a second bedroom, but since he’d embraced it as a potential home office he was glad for the additional space. Some of these books hadn’t even been unpacked from their boxes during his last move in Chicago, back to the poky studio after things had finally gone irreparably south with Balthazar. But now, he had all his books in place, he’d set up his workspace, his teaching timetable for the quarter was pinned to the wall, and he was in a new city where nobody knew him and he could get a fresh start.

Nothing could stop him from getting his life together now.

Except maybe a global pandemic.

*

“ _…should remain in their homes at all times except for essential journeys, and limit in-person social interaction wherever possible. Governor Gavin Newsom announced the new measures this morning in an effort to slow the spread of COVID-19, and they will remain in place until further notice. The order affects 40 million individuals state-wide; our correspondent in San Francisco has more details…_ ”

Castiel sat looking glumly at the TV. He had woken up to an email from the department administrator to let him know they would be bringing a whiteboard and an OSHA form by, so that the university could say it had fulfilled its basic obligations for remote teaching. This really wasn’t how he anticipated beginning this new chapter of his life, but he had to cling to the wins. 

He switched off the news and fiddled listlessly with his lecture notes. He had everything ready to start teaching after the weekend. He knew he could do this. It was just a little different, that was all. In amongst all his belongings, Gabriel had left an outrageous stack of UCSD gear, with a note on the top on which he’d scrawled “ _Housewarming gift, or whatever. Don’t expect anything for your birthday xox_ ”. The bold blue and yellow pennant now hung from the side of his borrowed whiteboard, the mug was going through a rigorous disinfection process, and the awkwardly-tight t-shirt had found its home amongst his running clothes. There was nothing else he could do now but wait for Monday.

*

Castiel scrunched his eyes closed, burying his face further into his pillow to block out the light streaming in through the thin curtains. He really would have to do something about that. Sometime. Maybe. It really was relentlessly bright for first thing in the morning, but moving to California was always going to take some adjusting to. He reached blindly for his phone to check just how disgustingly early it was, grudgingly cracking open one eye.

In an instant, he was wide awake, catapulted upright by a shot of adrenaline. _Fuck, it’s nearly 9am_.

He scrambled from his bed, trying to shake the remaining cobwebs of sleep from his brain. Thank god he didn’t have to get to a lecture theatre this morning. _I guess even a pandemic has its advantages_. He grabbed a pressed shirt and suit jacket from the half-empty wardrobe, hangers clattering to the floor, and pulled a tie from a drawer almost as an afterthought before dashing up the stairs to his computer. His hair was undoubtedly a mess, but besides that, at least his visible half looked somewhat presentable.

By the time he’d fully settled into his first lecture, it was almost over, and he vowed never to try to teach pre-caffeine ever again. Freshmen were challenging enough when they were familiar and encountered on a full tank of coffee – teaching a new class with insufficient chemical preparation was nothing short of Sisyphean. First class dismissed, Castiel traipsed downstairs to fuel up. He would need to wake up properly before dragging the next group through two hours of multilingualism in antiquity. The last thing he needed was to make some kind of stupid mistake in front of his new students on his first day. 

Okay. One down, one to go.

“…something they referred to as _uarietas linguarum_.” He stood, reaching for a board pen from his desk, and wrote the term at the top of the whiteboard. “The Roman empire was vast, and most people would not have spoken Greek or Latin as a first language. We’re talking Etruscan, Phoenician, Punic, Venetic…” He trailed off as he heard the Zoom chat function ping with a new notification on his computer, distracting him from his train of thought. He shook his head slightly, trying to get back on track. “Roman authors referred to Latin and Greek as _utraque lingua_ , ‘both our languages’, which implies a certain familiarity and proficiency in both, and–” The chat pinged again, this time several times in a row, and he turned back to the screen frowning. “if you have questions, you’re welcome to unmute yourselves to ask.”

There’s a pregnant pause before anyone decides to take the plunge.

“Um, Professor?” the voice was timid, but wobbling slightly with suppressed laughter. “You’re not wearing… you haven’t got…” The voice cut off abruptly with a choking noise. Castiel squinted at the laptop perched on his desk, nonplussed.

Another voice unmuted just long enough to say “Nice undies, teach!” before cutting off mid-guffaw.

The words took a moment to register. Castiel looked down at himself in horror, then lunged for his computer in an attempt to cover up his underwear. His brightly-colored, cartoon-bee-covered, very much on display underwear. _Fuck_.

Most of the class had now unmuted themselves, laughing and catcalling. Castiel sat heavily on his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face. He wanted to close down the session, cancel the rest of the class, sink into the ground and never see any of these people again. But that wasn’t an option. He allowed himself a moment of pure, unadulterated despair, before pulling himself together. 

“My apologies. Lockdown is getting to us all in different ways, it seems.” He smiled wryly at the class, all at various stages of recovery from hysteria. “But I promise this is not the ‘new normal’ for your classes this year. I will now allocate you to breakout groups to discuss the Biville article whilst I, er, rectify the situation.”

There was an awkward pause while Castiel beat the technology into submission and wrangled the students into breakout rooms. Task complete, he switched off his camera and mic, let his head flop onto his desk, and heaved a heavy sigh. It was going to be a long quarter.

“Right. Pants.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Dude, are you fucking kidding me.”

Sam gasped, trying to catch his breath at the same time as mopping up the second-hand coffee he’d just redistributed all over their shared keyboard.

“Sorry, shit, sorry, but you have to see this.”

Dean grudgingly left his comfortable spot on the couch. “If it’s tentacle porn again, I will end you”

“Dean, that was your porn. You did that to yourself.”

Dean ignored him with dignity. “Get on with giving up the goods, bitch.”

Sam sighed from the depths of his stupid hair. “Look at this.”

Sam scrolled back through a short video clip, showing a brief flash of color and coming to rest on a still of a zoom lecture, an unfamiliar (and extremely cute) bed-headed man taking up most of the screen. Then, Sam pressed play, and Dean’s brain spat its own metaphorical coffee over a metaphorical keyboard.

“Damn, a guy could do himself an injury between those thighs.”

“Gross, Dean.”

“What, he’s hot. I can’t decide which he’s gonna reach first: the front page of Buzzfeed or PornHub.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Keep it in your pants. He’s new to the Linguistics faculty, which is literally in the same building as PolSci. Please don’t make me need to bleach my brain when we’re all back on campus.”

“Yikes, poor guy. He’s made one hell of a first impression.”

Sam snorted. “No kidding.”

“Hey, I’m gonna go rescue some of the perishables from P&V. Do you need anything while I’m out?”

“Nah.” Sam looked up from the computer and fixed Dean with a pointed glare. “And you’re not to do any baking while you’re there, you hear me? This quarantine situation is serious.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Thanks _mom_ , I’ve already had the lecture from Charlie. ‘ _Flatware and pastry are giant potential vectors for disease, Dean!_ ’” he mimicked. “’ _You don’t want to be California’s first super-spreader!_ ’”

“Well, with your love life…”

Dean flipped Sam off over his shoulder as he left the apartment. Sam was relieved to see him somewhat back to normal. The news of lockdown had hit him hard; the café was his whole life and only source of income. But even Dean couldn’t deny that the measures were necessary.

Anyone who knew Dean could immediately see his personality writ large all over the café. Pie & Vinyl was an independent oasis in a parched desert of Starbucks, carefully and conscientiously built from the ground up by Dean. Charlie had helped with refining the décor and getting the social media ball rolling, but the aesthetic and the offering was Dean to a T.

Every time he walked through the front door, Dean could feel his blood pressure drop a couple of notches. It wasn’t just the relief of walking into a cool, dark space when the sun was beating down outside. The entire ceiling was plastered with a vast array of his favourite album covers, from Zepp to Metallica, Lynyrd Skynyrd to the Stones, in contrast to the bare brick walls. Suspended from the ceiling was a mismatched collection of repurposed light fittings and hanging plants, providing a unique combination of zen atmosphere and heart-stopping head injury opportunities. Dean had balked at the idea of having brand new cookie-cutter furniture in amongst such a carefully curated design - categorically not a vibe - so he and Charlie had been to what felt like every thrift store in southern California picking up abandoned couches, benches, armchairs, and tables. And some more plant pots, because apparently _plants make people comfortable, Dean, and when people are comfortable they want to stay and buy more pie, and you want people to buy pie don’t you?_

Behind the counter, however, was clean and smooth stainless steel or glass on every surface. Well, he wasn’t a _monster_.

Nine days.

Nine long, boring, solitary days.

Hardly any time at all, and yet in that time he’d made a public spectacle of himself, been confined to a small and unfamiliar space, and found himself feeling more lonely than ever before in his life.

Screenshots and clips of the recorded lecture had spread like wildfire through the UCSD students and faculty. He’d received many hilarious - no, really Marv, you should be a comedian - comments from his new colleagues, which were getting harder to laugh off. This wasn’t what he’d hoped for in his _fresh start_.

“ _The most important thing to do during these difficult times is to maintain a routine!_ ” he’d been assured by some revoltingly upbeat lycra-clad sinew on the internet. “ _Stay active! Eat well! Get plenty of fresh air!_ ” Castiel grimaced. The bitter Chicago winter had provided a convenient excuse to get out of the habit of daily running, but that excuse was certainly not going to fly in San Diego. He almost wanted to ignore the advice on the principle that nobody that chirpy could ever have sensible things to say, but he had to grudgingly admit that, if he had to spend every day in front of his computer for the foreseeable future, he was going to seriously need some kind of exercise to keep him sane. Besides, it would be a good way to get to know the area beyond his immediate neighbors, and check out the campus he’d not even set foot on.

After much rummaging, he finally found his running shoes in a box under the kitchen sink, covered in an inordinate number of candy wrappers. _Thanks Gabriel_. How can one so small get through so much sugar? Without Chicago’s grid-like system to guide him, Castiel picked a direction at random and set off at a gentle pace that allowed a combination of half exercise, half snoop. The tranquil, tree-lined avenues were a lovely change, and made the run far less of a chore. If he was being honest with himself, the novelty of being allowed out of his house for a little while was also contributing to his enjoyment. He’d always thought of himself as a homebody and an introvert, and by and large that was true, but he wasn’t adjusting well to the lockdown measures at all.

As he reached the main road, he paused to check his location. It looked as though he could actually incorporate this into his commute, when they were finally allowed back on campus again, as it was only a few miles. He’d already reached about halfway in the last ten minutes. Exploring the virtual map, he noticed a small street boasting a handful of independent stores. That had to be worth checking out; after all, man cannot live on Amazon Prime alone. He crossed the main drive and jogged down the street, almost empty but for one other runner.

The palm trees cast a soothing shade over the sidewalk, and the breeze helped cool him down from his exertion. Castiel slowed to a stroll to peer in through the windows of the various closed shops and eateries. He decided to dedicate a full day to the glorious bookshop, once that was an option. It was bursting to the seams with new and second-hand books, and he could always get another bookshelf delivered. He nearly walked straight past ‘Pie and Vinyl’, an unassuming store front with a dark sign and dark floor-to-ceiling windows. He thought he caught a glimpse of movement inside, but it must have been his own reflection, as all he could see when he stepped up to the glass to take a proper look was a veritable waterfall of trailing leaves and vines. As his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, he took in the high ceilings, the exposed industrial walls, and the homely furniture. It could have come over as affected, but it just looked beautiful. Rather than artifice, the café exuded comfort and calm. Oh yes, this would definitely be where he’d work on his caffeine problem.

*

“I saw the new guy this morning.”

Sam squinted up from his book. “New guy?”

“Y’know, thighs like hams. He’s been by a couple of times, actually.” Dean said, with what was definitely an excellent impression of nonchalance that would convince everybody.

“At the café? I thought you were still closed?”

“Shit’s still gotta be cleaned, Sammy.”

Sam looked at him. It was uncomfortable. “Did you say hi?”

“No, I was working.”

“Ah, you hid.”

Dean bristled. “No,” he lied. “I was _busy_.”

The man had appeared at his front windows in an indecently clingy UCSD shirt, and running shorts that seemed to accentuate his legs even more than the now-infamous comedy boxers. What he’d said to Sam wasn’t completely inaccurate; he was in the middle of disinfecting the pastry display cases, and had no intention of socialising whilst in an apron, hairnet, and rubber gloves up to his elbows. The dude’s face had been flushed, sweaty hair falling into his face, and honestly, it was just outrageous. Seeing the clip on Sam’s computer had been one thing. Seeing the man in the _glorious_ flesh had been entirely another. Dean surreptitiously rubbed at his chin to make sure he wasn’t drooling.

“Uh huh. So now that you’ve thoroughly cleaned every inch of the place, presumably you have no reason to go back to P&V to see if he comes by again?”

Dean goldfished. “I–”

Sam kept on looking.

“Well–”

“If you need help coming up with an excuse, all those plants won’t water themselves.”

“Shut up.”


	3. Chapter 3

Could it really be such a terrible idea?

People did it all the time, right?

It would be a totally reasonable and effective way to meet new people in the area.

It didn’t necessarily say anything about him. Except for the obvious, of course.

Castiel took a deep breath, and pressed the ‘download’ button for Grindr.

This wouldn’t have been such an ordeal had he not already been traumatized by Tinder. That had seemed like a safe, neutral option. It had turned out, however, to be alarmingly full of his students, and he’d hurriedly deleted his account and gone for his daily run to clear his head of the _horrible_ prospect of talking to any of them on a _dating app_.

But on his return, it really did seem like he’d have to do something soon, otherwise he was going to completely lose the will to live. Grindr would, at least, weed out a large proportion of his students from the demographic. And it wasn’t like he was shy about his sexuality; he’d spent long enough in the closet and wasn’t about to climb back in again in his thirties.

Next problem: his usual online handles were out of the question. ‘Castiel’ wasn’t exactly a common name, and even his initials could be a giveaway. He’d used AngelofThursday in the past, but even that would be too revealing with a quick Google. In the end he went with a diminutive of his middle name, and added his birth year in the hope of fending off anyone significantly younger or older. Listen, nobody had ever accused Castiel of being imaginative.

Despite the size of the city, it turned out that the local queer dating pool was more of the wading variety than olympic-sized. He just hoped that there were some quality fish to be found.

To his extreme lack of surprise, his inbox was immediately bombarded with rotting jetsam.

  
**BigDaddy4U:**  
hi  


  
**assboi:**  
send pics  


  
**slttybttm:**  
host? can be there in 5  


You know what, it turned out this really could be a terrible idea after all.

Castiel sighed heavily, and began deleting messages, responding to a few for his own entertainment before blocking the senders.

  
**user69420:**  
hey, are you interested in joining an orgy tonight?  


**Jimmy85:**  
Depends. Will there be tacos?

  
**daddyscockslut:**  
u big?  


**Jimmy85:**  
About 6 foot.

  
**daddyscockslut:**  
i ment downstairs  


**Jimmy85:**  
I’m about 6 foot in the kitchen too.

His phone pinged again, and he pulled a face at the message that popped up.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
lookin 4 a guy to walk in unzip fuck my throat hard deep a bit rough n verbally aggressive until u cum on my face and go  


Castiel clenched his jaw against the sudden wave of sadness and loneliness that engulfed him. Why did this have to be so difficult? Who even were these people? Is this how they talked to anyone they met on the street? He began to type an angry response, this last message tipping him over the edge, but he simply didn’t have the energy. He blinked back tears of frustration, and settled for the only true response.

 **Jimmy85:**  
I just want a hug.

Castiel turned off his phone, and just barely restrained himself from throwing it at the wall. It looked like he’d just have to get used to solitude for the time being.

*

He woke up with a feeling of dread that he couldn’t place until he looked over at his phone. Bracing himself, he turned it on, and set it to one side so that it could blow up while he made himself coffee. Predictably, there were roughly eleventy bajillion notifications from Grindr. Why hadn’t he just deleted the app last night?

He was surprised to see a string of replies from one user, in contrast to the multitudes of one-word (or, worse, one-picture) messages that made up the majority of the deluge.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
aww yes pls  
 **MoonRanger:**  
thats actually much better than what i said  
 **MoonRanger:**  
hope i didnt scare u off  
 **MoonRanger:**  
just seems like the kind of thing yr meant to say  
 **MoonRanger:**  
sorry if i offended you  
 **MoonRanger:**  
but like if i didnt the offers still on the table  


Well. That was not what he had expected. The cautious optimism of the last line made him huff a laugh into his mug.

 **Jimmy85:**  
My apologies for the angst. You had the misfortune of getting me at the end of a very long day.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
While I do appreciate the offer, that’s not really what I’m here for.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
not sure why yr on grindr if yr just after a hug dude  


**Jimmy85:**  
Honestly, I’m just lonely.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
I just moved from out of state and started at a new job.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
I don’t know anyone around here, and it’s quite difficult to make new friends when you can’t even go out.

Castiel drained the last of his coffee, and set his phone on to charge. He had just about enough time to shower before he needed to start teaching. If he was lucky, he might even have time to remember to get fully dressed this time.

*

Delivering two lectures in one morning had absolutely no business being so exhausting. Especially considering he didn’t even have to travel to campus to deliver them. Nonetheless, after a morning of Zoom teaching, Castiel was wiped. As he stared into the half-empty fridge, waiting for lunch inspiration to strike, he heard his phone buzz from his bedroom. Inspiration having failed to appear, he closed the fridge and went to check his phone, in case it had any ideas.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
that sucks, dont you have any family or anything here  


The message had arrived shortly after his last reply, and his most recent notification was from over four hours later. Oops.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
sry if i overstepped  


**Jimmy85:**  
Not at all, sorry for the delay. I was working.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
I have an older brother also in CA, but we used up our annual quota of brotherly interaction in the process of moving me here last month.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
Sorry, I’m oversharing. I haven’t had this much conversation with anyone who wasn’t one of my students in two weeks.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
its cool  
 **MoonRanger:**  
so yr a teacher?  


Castiel hesitated briefly. He didn’t want to divulge too much to a complete stranger. But...

 **Jimmy85:**  
Yes, I’m a teacher.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
It seems you’re also an early riser. What do you do?

The typing bubble appeared and disappeared a few times before a new message came through. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one erring on the side of caution.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
i run my own business  
 **MoonRanger:**  
hospitality stuff  
 **MoonRanger:**  
not exactly busy atm  


Castiel winced. His current situation may not be perfect, but at least he still had work to do and a stable income to live on.

 **Jimmy85:**  
That sounds...challenging. I’m sorry to hear that.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
its ok  
 **MoonRanger:**  
we’ll get by  
 **MoonRanger:**  
:)  


Castiel cast around for a way to get off the uncomfortable topic.

 **Jimmy85:**  
Can I ask - what does your username mean? It’s not like any others I’ve seen on here.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
Though that’s certainly not a bad thing.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
haha  
 **MoonRanger:**  
a friend set it for me  
 **MoonRanger:**  
she thinks shes funny n likes 2 interfere in my life  


Castiel smiled despite himself.

 **Jimmy85:**  
In which case, she must never be allowed to meet my brother. They sound worryingly similar. Together they may take over the world with a combination of puns and gross invasions of privacy.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
sounds about right lol  
 **MoonRanger:**  
guess u spent a long time working on yours  


**Jimmy85:**  
You joke, but this actually took a lot of deliberation.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
As you can see, I eventually gave up the unequal struggle.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
could be worse  
 **MoonRanger:**  
u could have chosen a username w the word daddy in it  
 **MoonRanger:**  
like most people on here  


**Jimmy85:**  
Would you have still sent me the same message?

  
**MoonRanger:**  
…  
 **MoonRanger:**  
probably  


**Jimmy85:**  
Good to know.

*

Despite all evidence to the contrary, Castiel was definitely dead.

He’d barely slept all night for coughing. When he had slept, his dreams had been vivid and surreal. He ached all over as if he’d been hit by a bus, and he felt cold and clammy.

Most definitely dead.

He mustered all his energy to reach his phone from the bedside table and texted Gabriel.

**Me:**  
Are you sick?

  
**Gabriel:**  
No  
 **Gabriel:**  
Maybe  
 **Gabriel:**  
Shit, are you sick too?  


**Me:**  
I don’t want to sound dramatic, but this feels like it could be coronavirus. Fever & cough. If I’m not better after the weekend, I’ll have to take leave from work.  
 **Me:**  
If you are sick, stay indoors. Rule is 14 days’ quarantine.

  
**Gabriel:**  
Uggghhhhhhhhh  


Castiel closed his messages and opened up Grindr, which had become a habit over the past few days.

 **Jimmy85:**  
Morning Ranger

  
**MoonRanger:**  
hey jimmy  
 **MoonRanger:**  
hows it goin  


**Jimmy85:**  
This is an automated message notifying you of my death.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
The family requests no flowers please.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
shit, whats up?  


**Jimmy85:**  
I think I’ve contracted COVID-19.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
oh fuck, are u serious???  


**Jimmy85:**  
Deadly.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
can i do anything for u?  
 **MoonRanger:**  
do u need anything?  
 **MoonRanger:**  
not in a weird way obvs  
 **MoonRanger:**  
i just know yr by yourself atm  
 **MoonRanger:**  
n being unwell is rough at the best of times  


Castiel felt a rush of gratitude. He knew he wouldn’t take Ranger up on the offer, though. They were quickly becoming close friends, but it had still been only a matter of days. It just wouldn’t be prudent to give out his real name and address to someone he’d never met. He didn’t even know what Ranger looked like, for heaven’s sake. But his willingness to help Castiel in his time of need marmed him, and made him feel a step above zombie.

 **Jimmy85:**  
Thank you, I appreciate the offer, but I will be fine.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
ok, if yr sure  
 **MoonRanger:**  
what were u planning to do 2day?  


**Jimmy85:**  
Pretty much the same as every other day. Go for a run, do some marking, have an existential crisis.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
But one out of three isn’t bad, I suppose.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
is it weird 2 hope u mean the existential crisis and not the marking  
 **MoonRanger:**  
u should watch a film or sth  
 **MoonRanger:**  
low effort  
 **MoonRanger:**  
do u have soup?  
 **MoonRanger:**  
tell me 2 shut up if im bein overbearing  


**Jimmy85:**  
You’re fine. No, I don’t have soup. Uber Eats does, though.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
I’m not much of a film person usually. Do you have any recommendations?

  
**MoonRanger:**  
lol i always recommend star wars - u cant beat it  


**Jimmy85:**  
I suppose I could try that. I haven’t seen it before, but it looks like I can rent it online.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
YOU WHAT  


Castiel was taken aback. Had he accidentally offended Ranger? He wasn’t sure how to respond, but in the end, Ranger took advantage of his hesitation.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
were gonna fix this  
 **MoonRanger:**  
not today bc you probs need 2 catch up on sleep first  
 **MoonRanger:**  
but prepare yourself bc tomorrow we r gonna watch the first 6  


**Jimmy85:**  
Together??  
 **Jimmy85:**  
Wait, there are six of them?!?

  
**MoonRanger:**  
…  
 **MoonRanger:**  
its a good job i like you  


*

  
**MoonRanger:**  
hey jimmy, how are you doin today?  
 **MoonRanger:**  
did u get any sleep?  


Castiel smiled stupidly at his phone.

 **Jimmy85:**  
Good morning Ranger. I slept a little better, thank you.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
You were right about the soup  
 **Jimmy85:**  
I also had hot water with honey, which helped with the coughing.   
**Jimmy85:**  
Still have a fever, but I do feel better than yesterday.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
How are you?

  
**MoonRanger:**  
dont worry about me dude, im fine  
 **MoonRanger:**  
u still up to be educated in all things star wars?  


**Jimmy85:**  
Of course. If that’s alright with you, that is. I don’t want to take up your time

  
**MoonRanger:**  
dude  
 **MoonRanger:**  
jimmy  
 **MoonRanger:**  
it would be my enormous fuckin pleasure  
 **MoonRanger:**  
lmk once u have episode 4 downloaded  
 **MoonRanger:**  
so we can watch it at the same time n i can answer any qs u have  


**Jimmy85:**  
Is this what post-COVID dating looks like?

Castiel wrapped himself in his comforter and trudged into the living room to get a fresh coffee and set up the movie on his TV. He swallowed a couple of Tylenol, then arranged himself in a kind of nest on the couch. He frowned slightly at his unexpectedly silent phone, and then was smacked in the face with embarrassment.

**Jimmy85:**  
I’m sorry, please ignore that, I know this isn’t a date. I blame the fever.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
i mean  
 **MoonRanger:**  
i wouldnt complain  
 **MoonRanger:**  
but maybe this is a convo 4 when yr not at deaths door  


**Jimmy85:**  
Good thinking.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
Ready when you are.  
 **Jimmy85:**  
With the film, I mean.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
ok. 3...2...1...  


*

**Jimmy85:**  
Well, at least I now know where the line “I am your father” comes from.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
i still cant believe u havent watched these before  


**Jimmy85:**  
I had a very sheltered childhood.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
whatever u say dude  
 **MoonRanger:**  
u got time for the next 1?  


**Jimmy85:**  
I don’t know. I should probably do some work...

  
**MoonRanger:**  
r u kidding  
 **MoonRanger:**  
1 its the weekend  
 **MoonRanger:**  
2 yr sick  
 **MoonRanger:**  
u cant work when yr sick  


**Jimmy85:**  
I need to, though. Everything’s so much busier now we have to move over to online teaching for the rest of the year.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
right, of course  
 **MoonRanger:**  
i keep forgetting that not every1 is bored shitless w no work 2 do  


**Jimmy85:**  
I’m sorry, I shouldn’t complain. Things must be so stressful for you right now.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
jimmy i will literally fight u  
 **MoonRanger:**  
its fine  
 **MoonRanger:**  
i just think u shd rest  


**Jimmy85:**  
I don’t want to fight :( Could really do with a hug instead.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
lol u and yr hugs  


**Jimmy85:**  
What do you mean?

  
**MoonRanger:**  
its literally the 1st thing u said 2 me, remember?  


Castiel scrolled up - which took much longer than he expected; they had been talking _a lot_ more than he realized - and saw what Ranger meant.

 **Jimmy85:**  
I’m sorry.

  
**MoonRanger:**  
no way  
 **MoonRanger:**  
dont be sorry  
 **MoonRanger:**  
its cute ;)  


Castiel blushed into his comforter, glad Ranger couldn’t see him. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to get very attached to his new friend. 


	4. Chapter 4

Most of the time, living with your brother was a fairly neutral experience. You just shared the same space. Coexisted. It was a convenience thing. 

A small percentage of the time, it sucked. Like when that same brother disregarded all previous dire warnings related to the consumption of burritos and the consequences thereof, and you had to open every window in the apartment even though it messed with the AC.

And another small percentage of the time, it was fucking hilarious. Like when you reached peak boredom during lockdown and snooped through his stuff, and found highly incriminating items that would provide _years’_ worth of blackmail material.

“Dean, _give them back._ ”

Dean dodged out of the unnaturally-long reach of Sam’s arms and grinned over the kitchen counter. “Abso-fucken-lutely not.”

“ _Dean!_ ”

Dean ran to his room with the offending item, and locked the door just in time for Sam to throw himself ineffectually at it.

“Dean, I swear–”

“Lighten up, Sammy. We’ve all got our kinks, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“ _Oh my god_. It’s not a kink. They were Jess’s.”

“Is that supposed to make it sound better?!”

Sam huffed in a way that implied a force 10 sulk was impending. “Whatever, Dean. I’m going out for a run.”

“Don’t catch the ‘rona.”

“Jerk.”

Dean cradled his prize in his hands. He could hardly believe it. It was so rare that Sam ever gave him anything concrete to make fun of, but now he had _these_. A pair of satin bunny ears on a headband, unmistakably playboy bunny-style. It was nothing short of a miracle. A gift from the gods, if you will. And as an older brother, it was his solemn duty to absolutely ruin all positive associations Sam could possibly have had with these ears.

Seized with a brilliant idea, he pulled his shirt off and arranged the ears on his head. It was a shame he didn’t have a bow tie to hand, but he could work with this. Pulling his best blue steel, he snapped a couple of selfies, then examined them to see which could cause the most emotional damage. He was disappointed to discover that the lighting hadn’t been on his side, and his portrait was barely more than a silhouette. All he could see was the outline of his head, the ears, and some light and shade defining his neck and shoulder. Not nearly scarring enough. It was actually a relatively tasteful picture. He found a better spot and got ready to take another picture.

And then.

Then he had another idea.

This one also had the potential to be brilliant, but on the other hand could go horribly wrong if he’d misjudged things.

Before he could overthink it, he opened Grindr and sent one of the pictures to Jimmy, with the caption “happy easter ;)”.

…

Fuck.

Why had he done that??

Jimmy hadn’t given any real indication that he was interested in anything beyond friendship. Sure, they’d met on a hookup app, but he was clearly just some weird, dorky little guy with limited social skills. He wasn’t some dick cruising for a quick fuck. And to be honest, nor was Dean these days.

He was so wrapped up in his panic spiral that he only noticed the notifications on his phone when it buzzed for the third time. Reluctantly, he opened the app to see the damage.

**Jimmy85:**

Oh, Ranger

**Jimmy85:**

Is that you?

**Jimmy85:**

You look beautiful.

Dean felt all his blood rush to his face. Whatever response he had expected, it wasn’t that. But Jimmy apparently wasn’t done typing.

**Jimmy85:**

Did you take this picture for me?

**Jimmy85:**

You’re absolutely gorgeous.

**Jimmy85:**

I want to taste your skin

Dean choked on air. Who was this guy, and what had he done with Jimmy?

**Jimmy85:**

Is this okay?

**MoonRanger:**

more than ok

**MoonRanger:**

shit dude

Dean tugged the stupid ears from his head and threw them to one side, paying no attention to where they landed. He sat heavily back on his bed, leaning back onto his pillows ready for what he thought - what he really hoped - was coming next.

**Jimmy85:**

I want to kiss you

**Jimmy85:**

Will you let me kiss you?

**MoonRanger:**

fuck yeah

**Jimmy85:**

Would you let me suck your cock?

Dean gasped and cupped his hardening dick through his pants. It wasn’t enough. He shucked his jeans and underwear, and turned to lie on his front on the bed, hips rolling as if of their own accord. This had gone from zero to one hundred in no time at all, but he wasn’t about to complain.

**MoonRanger:**

please jimmy

**MoonRanger:**

want it so bad

**Jimmy85:**

Me too, Ranger. I want to feel you come apart beneath my hands.

**Jimmy85:**

I want to make you feel good.

**MoonRanger:**

yr off to a hell of a start

**MoonRanger:**

fuck jimmy, dont stop

He reached down to relieve the building ache in his cock, pulling at his balls to stave off his impending orgasm. Jesus, he was already so worked up. If he wasn’t careful, this was going to be over in an embarrassingly short time. 

**Jimmy85:**

I won’t stop. I want to worship every inch of you with my tongue. Do you want that?

**Jimmy85:**

Would you let me eat you out?

Dean cried out, grabbing desperately at his bed sheets. He spread his legs on the bed, arching his back as if Jimmy were really behind him, as if he were really about to fuck him with that clever tongue.

**MoonRanger:**

let you?

**MoonRanger:**

id be begging u

**MoonRanger:**

fuck jimmy, yr gona make me come

He brushed one dry finger lightly over his hole, filling in the sensation in his mind. Did Jimmy have a beard? Would he be rubbing the skin of Dean’s thighs raw as he ate him out? His cock jerked and dripped onto the covers.

**Jimmy85:**

Is that what you want, beautiful boy? You want to come with my tongue in your ass?

This was too much for Dean. He dropped his phone and fisted his dick and his fingers continued to trace over his hole. Within moments, he had come with a shout all over his bed, every muscle tensed and heartbeat racing in his ears. 

**MoonRanger:**

oh my god

**MoonRanger:**

that was

**MoonRanger:**

amazing

**MoonRanger:**

...

**MoonRanger:**

r u still there?

**Jimmy85:**

Yes, I’m here.

**Jimmy85:**

Just recovering.

**MoonRanger:**

aw. do u need a hug? ;)

**Jimmy85:**

You’re so mean to me. I ask for a hug *one time*...

**MoonRanger:**

twice actually

**Jimmy85:**

:’(

**MoonRanger:**

aww im sorry, dont be sad, i think its cute

**Jimmy85:**

:)

**Jimmy85:**

In which case, yes, I will happily take that hug.

**Jimmy85:**

Goodnight Ranger.

*

**Jimmy85:**

I just wanted to apologize for last night. I was a little tipsy, and I’m concerned I crossed a line.

**MoonRanger:**

dude, no, it was great

**MoonRanger:**

unless you regret it??

**Jimmy85:**

Not at all

**Jimmy85:**

It was just...very unlike me.

**Jimmy85:**

But if you’re happy, then I’m happy.

**Jimmy85:**

:)

**MoonRanger:**

dork

**MoonRanger:**

:)

**HM Queen of Moondoor:**

DEAN

**HM Queen of Moondoor:**

WAKE UP

**HM Queen of Moondoor:**

DEAN

**HM Queen of Moondoor:**

HAVE YOU SEEN THE NEWS

**HM Queen of Moondoor:**

WE CAN OPEN PEEN & VAGENE

**Me:**

pls stop calling my cafe that

**HM Queen of Moondoor:**

No

*

When Castiel’s daily run next took him past Pie & Vinyl, he was surprised and delighted to see a sign outside reading “Don’t cry: we have PIE!”, and a temporary counter set up in the open doorway of the café. As he got closer, he could see two baristas painstakingly adding little toothpick flags to a range of pastries in between serving masked customers. The woman, with fiery red hair, seemed to be mainly in charge of the flags, and was concentrating furiously on the positioning and distribution of the various designs across the baked goods in the glass display case next to the counter. The man was talking easily with the customers with a smile like sunshine. 

The man was also easily the most beautiful person Castiel had ever laid eyes on.

He joined the queue, taking care to leave plenty of space between him and the person in front. Despite the friendliness of the baristas, the line moved fairly quickly, and in no time Castiel was at the front. He inspected the array of pastries, and squinted at the flags, trying to make out the designs.

“Hey there, welcome to Pie & Vinyl!” said the woman, beaming at him. There was a muffled and inexplicable “ _ow_ ” from the man next to her. “What can we get for you today?”

Holy shit, it was thighs dude.

Dean did a double-take when he saw him, which thankfully went unnoticed by anyone except Charlie, who gracefully took over service (though not without standing hard on Dean’s foot to snap him out of it). The guy was looking intensely at the pies and cakes as if trying to disintegrate them with his mind. Charlie was rattling off a list of menu items, and also explaining her weird flags. These were the fruits of her extreme boredom over the last couple of weeks of lockdown, and the look on her face when he was less than extremely enthusiastic about them quickly let him know that he’d _better use them all or else_.

“You can get ‘I love you’, ‘have a great day!’, ‘happy birthday’, leave me alone’, ‘eat me’, or Dean’s personal favorite, ‘six feet, motherfucker’.”

“That’s quite the selection,” said Thighs, with a voice that sent Dean’s mind straight to the gutter. Holy shit. If this dude recorded erotica for a living, he’d be a millionaire within days. “Could I please have a regular flat white and...hmm. And a ‘six feet, motherfucker’ croissant.”

The man beamed at them, and Dean was captivated by the gummy grin and scrunched nose. Holy shit, he was turning into a teenage girl. He was jolted back to reality by Charlie standing on his foot again.

“Oh, uh, can I get your name for your order?” he stuttered, grabbing a paper cup and the sharpie.

“Of course. My name is Castiel.”

“…Pardon?”

Castiel laughed, causing Dean to have a small heart attack. “Cas is fine.”

“I’m Dean,” said Dean, intelligently.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hi, Cas.”

Cas smiled devastatingly at him, then took his coffee, pastry, and face away from the café. When Dean gathered his wits enough to turn back around, Charlie was smirking at him. Oh no.

“I know that face. Why are you doing that face.”

“Oh, no reason. I just thought you were having a thing with that Grindr dude, but here you are mooning over, admittedly, the most attractive person to ever grace your fine establishment.”

“So? Anyway, it’s not a _thing._ ”

“How long have you two been talking now?”

“…”

“And you sent him that pic of you in the—”

“You promised you wouldn’t bring that up.”

“Ok, fine, but you speak to each other literally every day? You message him more than anyone else?”

“Yes, but—”

“And you’re trying to tell me that isn’t a _Thing_ with a capital T?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably. “I dunno Charlie, I mean, I barely know the guy. What if he’s a hipster or something?”

Charlie looked at him, arms crossed over her chest.

“What?”

“Dean, _you_ are a hipster.”

“I’m not a hipster.”

“You wear plaid and work in a coffee shop full of vinyl records, houseplants, and vintage furniture.”

“Yeah, so?” She didn’t stop staring at him, and he cast around for a rebuttal. “So do you.”

“I’m a _lesbian._ ”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end, folks. Hope you've enjoyed the ride!
> 
> Thanks again to the lovely [Foxy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxymoley/profile)[moley](https://foxymoley.tumblr.com/) for the inspiration, to the wondrous [Nickel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickelkeep) for beta-ing for me (when I wasn't trying to rush chapters out at yuck o'clock, oops, soz), and for excellent frens on the [PB discord server](https://https//discord.gg/profoundbond) for cheerleading.

  
**Jimmy85:**  
Can I ask you something?  


**MoonRanger:**  
is it a bad or scary thing?

**Jimmy85:**  
No?

**MoonRanger:**  
k but only if you never ask like that ever again  
**MoonRanger:**  
jfc i thought i was gonna have a stroke

  
**Jimmy85:**  
I just wanted to ask if i could get your number, instead of just messaging through Grindr?  
**Jimmy85:**  
This app is starting to get to me.  
**Jimmy85:**  
If I get one more message asking me to do something anatomically improbable, I can’t promise I won’t commit homicide.  


**MoonRanger:**  
yeah ofc dude, just drop me a msg n ill add u 2 my phone

  
**Jimmy85:**  
:)  


**MoonRanger:**  
ill save yr no as hug addict

  
**Jimmy85:**  
>:(  


*

Dean had a dilemma.

It was a good dilemma, in theory. There were worse problems to have.

On one hand, he was talking daily to a guy he’d never met, but who was funny, intelligent, kind, and who’d given him the best orgasm of his life, bar none. However, it had been a full month since that particular _incident_ , and nothing like it had happened since. And, dating sites being what they were, there was a non-zero chance he could be a serial killer. What? It could happen.

On the other hand, the most attractive person on the planet, with thighs like tree trunks and a face that would make an ancient greek sculptor cry, had apparently decided that P&V was The Place To Be almost every day of the week. But Dean had never heard him talk about anything other than his coffee order, and even Dean liked to know a bit of substance about his potential date-mates before making any rash decisions.

Dean knew he wasn’t actively horrible to look at. Nobody’s upchuck reflex had ever been triggered just by the sight of him. And as a result, he tended to be able to find suitable company if he so chose. But he didn’t want a quick fling, a wham bam thank you ma'am type deal with _either_ of these men. He needed to make a choice, and he needed to do this properly.

As of the start of June, people from two different households had been allowed to meet, at a safe distance. It was the perfect chance to get to know one or other of them on a more equal footing. The neighborhood was full of parks, and they were minutes from the coast. It was ideal date material. Once he’d decided who to take a chance on, that was.

Dean felt like he really knew Jimmy; knew him far better than he knew Cas, and wanted to get to know even more. But he also felt so guilty when he turned into a stammering mess at the sight of Cas. It would be so easy - in theory - to just slip Cas his number with his flat white, or write it on the side of the paper bag carrying his pastry of choice. But, _and this was the kicker_ , this somehow felt like a betrayal of Jimmy. A man he had no obligation to, nor any explicit relationship with.

_At least you know Jimmy’s into guys_ , said a snide voice in his head. 

And there was another part of the problem. 

Charlie had gone wild for Pride Month, making an enormous variety of mini pride flags for the pastries in addition to the now-standard phrases. There were so many that Dean wasn’t even convinced they were all Official Flags; he suspected Charlie may have invented one or two herself, just to make sure everyone was represented.

But Cas hadn’t picked _any_ of the pride flags. Not even _once_.

Perhaps he was shy. That was Charlie’s initial thought, at least. She kept sneaking mini bisexual flags onto Dean’s person when she expected Cas to be around, as some kind of gay bat signal.

“He might feel more comfortable if he knows for sure you’re not straight, Dean.”

“Not necessarily,” he had pointed out. “It could come over as pushy. You can’t force someone to be queer, and you can’t force them to come out if they are.”

Charlie had backed off, hands raised. “Ok, queer Yoda. Loud and clear.”

It wasn’t that Dean had completely ruled out the option of asking Cas out. He was happy to test the waters in his own way and his own time. His own way generally involved turning up the flirting to eleven and leaving subtlety at the door. But, bewilderingly, it seemed to have absolutely no effect. And that made him feel...fine, actually. 

And that was what made Dean’s decision for him. What told him he always knew what the decision ought to have been. Cas may be _stunningly beautiful_ , but sight unseen, he’d choose Jimmy every time.

Fuck.

*

It took Dean another week to build up his courage after this revelation.

 **MoonRanger:**  
hey man, happy saturday. u got any plans 2day?  


**Jimmy85:**  
Yes, actually! For once I have plans! It’s a miracle.

Dean swallowed down his disappointment. Oh.

It wasn’t an outright rejection per se, but if Jimmy was making social plans, and hadn’t thought about meeting up with Dean at all, it gave him a pretty clear picture of his place in Jimmy’s life.

**MoonRanger:**  
oh cool, thats nice. what r u up 2?  


**Jimmy85:**  
It’s my birthday today, and also I had my last day of teaching yesterday  
**Jimmy85:**  
Got a couple of weeks’ vacation ahead, so I’m going to treat myself.  
**Jimmy85:**  
How about you?

That was that then. Dean forced himself to reply before setting off for P&V.

**MoonRanger:**  
nm. just the usual bumming around i guess  


**MoonRanger:**  
happy bday tho, hope you have a great day

*

“Dean! The café’s fully open again? That’s great!”

“Hey, Cas.” Dean grinned. At least he could enjoy the view, even though he felt pretty crushed. “Yep, as of today, you can officially have your Pie & Vinyl treats in the actual café, rather than having to run home with them. What can I get for you today? The usual?”

Cas rubbed the back of his neck. “Partially…but I’d like something a little different, too.”

“Anything for my favorite customer,” said Dean with a wink, turning up the charm for all the good it would do. He just couldn’t help himself; that blush would be the death of him.

“A regular flat white please, a ‘six feet, motherfucker’ croissant to have in…and a Pie of the Day with a ‘happy birthday’ flag in a to-go bag.”

Dean’s smile froze on his face. Birthday. What if this guy was seeing Jimmy? He was exactly the kind of hot stuff the dude deserved. Don’t be a fucking idiot, he chastised himself. _It’s just a coincidence. There must be hundreds of people around here with a birthday today_. But, he’s a masochist, so...

“No problem.” Dean tried to clear the lump from his throat, and turned to grab a mug. “Whose birthday is it?”

Cas blushed that adorable fucking blush again. Goddammit, this was going to hurt. Dean jabbed the espresso machine unnecessarily aggressively.

“Oh it’s…it’s mine, actually.”

Well. That was not what Dean had expected. He laughed to himself, some of his tension draining. What were the odds that the two people he was stupidly attracted to had the same birthday?

“I know it’s a bit pathetic to get your own birthday cake, or pie I suppose, but I only just recently moved here, just before lockdown, and this is my first birthday by myself. My brother lives a few hours away, but I don’t know anyone else in the area, and–”

Dean’s hands stalled on the milk jug. _No. No way._

“–it’s _also_ the end of the university teaching quarter, so I’ve got a couple of weeks’ vacation ahead, so it felt like a good day to celebrate.”

Dean felt as if he’d forgotten how to breathe. He looked back at Cas, who was awkwardly wringing his hands together and looking at the floor following his sudden vent. _It would have to be a hell of a fucking coincidence._

“Would you…” Deep breath, Dean. “Would you like a hug with that pie?”

Cas looked understandably confused, and for a moment Dean was lightheaded with a combination of disappointment and relief. _It’s not him_. But then Cas’s face lost all its color. Oh.

“… _Ranger?_ ”

Cas looked like he was about to pass out, his voice barely audible, but Dean ploughed on. He had to know for sure. 

“Jimmy?” Cas made a noise like a deflating balloon, and Dean felt his palms break into a sweat. “Look, don’t freak out.”

Cas’s eyes were wide and unfocused and he was visibly shaking. “I am freaking out.”

“CHARLIE,” bellowed Dean, making Cas jump. Charlie didn’t even pretend not to have been watching their interaction. She stepped quickly from the kitchen area to take over the till and queue of rubberneckers, as Dean whipped his apron over his head and strode through the open hatch. He herded a mute Cas into the back of the café, away from the heat of the sun and the stares of the other customers. He gestured to Cas to sit down on a worn upholstered bench in an alcove, then joined him, brushing the fronds of a hanging adiantum out of his face.

“Talk to me, Cas. You look like someone’s just died.” Bravado wasn’t doing a great job of holding up under the pressure of spiralling introspection and panic. What if Cas didn’t find him attractive? What if ‘Jimmy’ had never wanted something real, and this was fucking it all up? He tried to focus. “This is a good thing, right?”

Cas finally looked him in the eye. “You think so? I know I’m not… I mean, I thought you’d think I was…”

Dean cut him off. He didn’t know where Cas was going with that sentence, but it sounded like it wouldn’t be anywhere good. Or accurate.

“I think you’re great. Honestly, you’ve become one of my best friends.”

Cas - Jimmy - _Cas_ \- looked horrified.

“Wait, that came out wrong.” Dean bit his lip and reached for Cas’s hand. “I think you’re gorgeous. The hottest thing since hot pockets. You’re also just…” He cast around for the right words. “...just, _way_ out of my league. On every level. But if you’re down, I would like to date you. A lot. Like, I want to take you to La Jolla cove and complain about the pelican smell with you. Or sit in the community park and you can tell me about the, the thing with the bees and responsible apiary. Or just anything, really.”

Cas remained silent, considering. Dean’s nerves couldn’t bear the stress.

“What d’you think, Cas? Will you go out with me?”

Cas looked up at Dean with a serious expression on his face.

“On one condition.”

Dean gulped. “What is it?”

“We pick up my birthday pie on the way out.”


End file.
